


Episode 2 - The Colony of New Hope

by RobertBruceScott



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek RPF, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Courtroom Drama, Genetic Engineering, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertBruceScott/pseuds/RobertBruceScott
Summary: The U.S.S. Hunter arrives at the Colony of New Hope with orders that make two things clear:Something is terribly wrong on the Colony of New Hope...                    Something is even more terribly wrong at Star Fleet Command...Because that mission was a disgrace... And Minerva Irons doesn't make juvenile mistakes like that...





	1. Episode 2.1 - Charter Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> I am breaking my current story into episodes to take better advantage of the Series option. Once I have Episodes 2 - 4 separately published, I will delete those chapters from the larger work and that will be stripped down to become exclusively Episode 1.
> 
> Episode 2 introduces the leadership of the U.S.S. Hunter along with crewmembers in the Flight Operations and Ground Operations departments.  
> Another major character, Governor Emory Ivonovic, is also introduced. 
> 
> rbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The U.S.S. Hunter arrives at the Colony of New Hope with orders that make it clear: 
> 
> Something is terribly wrong on the Colony of New Hope...
> 
> Something is even more terribly wrong at Star Fleet Command...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't until I hit on the idea of using pithy quotes at the beginning of each episode (a trick I borrowed from Frank S. Herbert's Dune series) that I was able to get across that this is not Justice Irons' finest moment... 
> 
> She has been ordered to do something she knows is likely to get her and her command staff killed and it will be some time before she can track down where those orders ultimately came from...

2 - The Colony of New Hope

_“Because that mission was a disgrace and Minerva Irons doesn’t make those kinds of juvenile mistakes… I don’t think the Hunter’s command staff were supposed to make it out of there alive.” Dr. Kenny Dolphin, Interview on Subspace Radio Ivonovic._

2.1  
Charter Worlds

Justice Minerva Irons got up from her desk, stretched her neck and reached for her judge’s robe. She set it upon her shoulders, adjusting it so the twin emblems of the United Federation of Planets were evenly displayed on either side above her breast. Her right hand brushed lightly over the long, straight dark hair that cascaded down from the top of her head along her right side, smoothing it and freeing some that had gotten under the black silk robe. Her robe fell much closer to the floor than the hem of her black silk dress. Her long, slender legs were clad in opaque black silk stocking with a subtle pattern. Irons could be forgiven some vanity about her looks - beauty was a powerful tool of statecraft and she had used hers to her advantage - and the Federation’s - for well over a century.  
She strode toward the door of her office then out onto the bridge of the Hunter at the very moment her first officer uttered the words that would summon her there - “Captain to the Bridge!”  
Her gigantic first officer rose from the captain’s chair - the only person she had ever seen make such a chair appear entirely inadequate - as though an adult had barely squeezed into the chair of a toddler. 

Commander David Pepper was nearly seven feet tall and well over 400 pounds - all muscle. His dark brown skin had a slight greenish hue from an orion grandmother. Two small greenish antenna mounts at his hairline were the only visible sign of his andorian grandfather. The gigantic size and strength came not only from his orion parentage, but also from his human heritage, which included a number of star athletes.  
The giant officer waved an enormous hand toward a rather drab looking planet displayed on the viewer. “Welcome to the Colony of New Hope, Min, one of the nineteen founding worlds in the original Federation Charter, the fourth planetary colony established by Earth. Population about two billion, almost exclusively human. Agricultural products: quatrotriticale, kalecorn and onions. Natural resources: bauxite, cadmium and malice. Primary industries: aluminum manufacture, illegal pharmaceutical research and organized crime.”  
Irons would never have allowed this kind of informality in any of her previous commands, but the crew of the Hunter was different - hand-picked by her and held to standards higher than any other crew in Star Fleet. This was partly due Hunter’s unique mission. Patrol class vessels were primarily used to prevent piracy and enforce law within the Federation. But the Hunter, in addition to that also served as a traveling appellate court.   
Every officer had to double as a legal assistant, so every officer from ensign up was required to be a licensed attorney. On top of that, to maintain a pool of potential expert witnesses on board, Justice Irons required every officer to attain a doctorate before being promoted to 2nd lieutenant or higher. Like herself, there were a few crew members who had more than one such degree. Commander Pepper’s doctorate was in literature with a specialty in Klingon poetry. 

“What are we walking into, David?” Irons asked.  
“Almost certainly a trap,” Pep (as everyone but the captain called him) replied. “And only you, Mlady and I are authorized to go. We will be positioned deep inside the Virtue prison complex. Extraction will be very difficult.”  
“Extraction. Of a planetary governor.” Justice Irons tilted her head slightly and managed with only that slight gesture to emanate waves of disdain.   
“I’m fairly certain the three of us are the ones who will need extraction, your Honor,” came a smooth, low alto voice from the tactical station behind Pep. If Pep was Star Fleet’s largest first officer, Lieutenant Commander Mlady was easily the smallest second officer. Less than 5 feet tall and less than 100 pounds, Mlady was dark skinned with bushels of dark hair that cascaded from the top of her head to below her knees. She lounged with cat-like grace against the tactical console behind the captains chair. Like Pep, her black SF JAG uniform had red piping, denoting command. Mlady looked like a small and very pretty woman of Indian or perhaps Sri Lankan descent. Only her slightly large, protruding jaw and oddly shaped, black fingernails made it evident she wasn’t entirely human. In fact, she wasn’t human at all. 

Lt. Cmdr. Mlady continued. “I authorized Lieutenant Smith to take her department down to provide technical assistance for the local authorities. The Iconoclasts are demonstrating just north of the prison complex. 2nd Lieutenant Tauk is coordinating from the ground operations center up here.”  
“That demonstration is no coincidence, and I'm willing to bet those aren't just Iconoclasts down there” Irons said.  
"Naturalborn?" Pep asked.  
Irons nodded. “Star Fleet Intelligence believes the governor is laying the groundwork for a declaration of martial law.”  
Pep finished her thought: “And that would require Star Fleet to support the declaration - starting with the planetary unit down at Prudence Base on the southern edge of the continent. We aren’t certain he hasn’t already made inroads with that unit.”  
Irons grimaced slightly, then called for her director of engineering - “Lieutenant Carrera..” The Hunter’s intercom system adjusted to carry her voice down to the Engineering deck.

Dr. Sarekson Carrera, a small, young man evidently of South American heritage with a bowl haircut, continued some fine adjustment to one of the boat’s systems as he answered, not bothering to look up, “Your Honor?”  
“Our new Director of Flight Operations has been delayed. The Enterprise should stop briefly in this system within the next hour to deliver him. Report to the bridge and take the con. When Lieutenant Dolphin arrives, inform him that he is ordered to relieve you and take command.”  
Carrera quickly completed his task and turned toward the door. “Aye Captain.”

2.1

**Crew of the U.S.S. Hunter:** (Ship's Interactive Holographic Avatar - Hunter)

At-Large Appellate Justice, Captain Minerva Irons  
Chief Executive Officer - Commander David Pepper  
Chief Operations Officer - Lt. Commander Mlady

Medical Director - Lt. Commander Tali Shae  
Asst. Medical Director - 2nd Lt. Jazz Sam Sinder  
Ensign Chrissiana Trei  
Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Tolon Reeves  
Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Sif  
Emergency Medical Hologram - Dr. Raj  
Tactical Medical Hologram - Dr. Kim

Director of Flight Operations - Lt. Kenneth Dolphin  
Asst. Flight Dir. - 2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor  
Navigator Johanna Imex  
Navigator Eli Strahl  
Ensign Ethan Phillips  
Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth  
Flight Specialist Dih Terri  
Flight Specialist Joey Chin  
Flight Specialist Winnifreid Salazaar

Director of Ground Operations - Lt. T'Lok Smith  
Asst. Ground Ops Dir. - 2nd Lt. Tauk   
Investigator Lynhart Shran  
Investigator Buttons N'gumbo  
Ensign T'Lon   
Tactical Specialist Jarrong  
Tactical Specialist Belo Rys  
Tactical Specialist Belo Garr  
Tactical Specialist Belo Cantys

Director of Engineering - Lt. Sarekson Carrera  
Asst. Engineering Dir. - 2nd Lt. Moon Sun Salek  
Midshipman Tammy Brazil  
Transporter Engineer K'rok  
Ensign Sun Ho Hui  
Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas  
Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs  
Flight Engineer Tomos  
Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon


	2. Episode 2.2 - Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigator Buttons is led into a trap.
> 
> Investigator Shran rescues his partner and calls for air support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of Star Fleet finding civilian investigators more useful than trying to train Star Fleet personnel to become detectives. By bringing in civilians, Star Fleet benefits from the decades of detective experience they can bring.
> 
> Buttons and Shran is a private detective agency founded on Bajor. Until attaching to Star Fleet, their primary work was helping bajoran families locate lost loved ones, often still enslaved in some dark corner of the Cardassian Union.

2.2  
Pursuit

Investigator Buttons Ngumbo was no longer certain whether he was pursuing a suspect or being pursued - probably both. His elderly partner, Investigator Shran had spotted cardassian disruptor rifles among the protesting Iconoclasts - lots of them. All it took was one rock thrown by an instigator from behind the police line and the entire street went up. Buttons had taken off after the rock thrower - hoping to find out who was so invested in inciting the violence. The rock thrower was fast. Buttons was faster, but he had to keep stopping to re-acquire his target - the instigator was evidently a local who knew the area well.

The neighborhoods around the prison had a bombed-out look not unlike some of the unrecovered parts of Buttons' native Bajor. But that had been the legacy of the Cardassian Occupation. These people had done this damage to themselves. And they were human - the Colony of New Hope, located on a far-flung boundary of the Federation, was one of the earliest human colonies and from its inception had included a large faction of Earth Firsters - a group initially opposed to the close relationship between humans, vulcans and andorians that had served as the foundation for the Federation. Gradually, this movement morphed into the Iconoclasts - not opposed to the Federation, but bitterly opposed to the artistic trappings of Federation offices and, more importantly, Federation imposed limits on the autonomy of homeworld rule. The Naturalborn were the natural outgrowth of the Earth First movement and among the various Naturalborn factions were some rather violent separatists.  
Buttons Ngumbo had spent part of his childhood in Africa, home to the cleanest, most modern cities on Earth, or anywhere in the Federation. Human cities were not supposed to be deteriorated and bombed out like this one was.

Buttons turned a corner, following the runner and suddenly realized he had been led into a trap. As his suspect ducked into a building, two others he could barely see opened up with disrupters from behind a rusted metal barricade. Buttons threw himself to the ground and drew his phaser. At almost that moment phaser fire from directly behind him quickly and extremely accurately took out each of the two fighters behind the barricade and picked another from the roof of one of the buildings. Three pin-point shots. 

Investigator Lynhart Shran sagged momentarily against the corner of a building, breathing hard and clutching his side. His large antennae were extremely active. “Get up, Ngumbo. I told you not to chase that rat.” Shran suddenly fixed his attention toward the barricade - his antennae turning quickly to follow his gaze - his phaser came up quickly and he let off another shot, knocking down another person behind the barricade.   
Buttons scrambled to his feet. Young, tall and lean, he was built like a runner. He was a bit taller than average for a bajoran and far darker - markers of his African heritage. Buttons and Shran did not wear uniforms - they were civilian investigators attached to Star Fleet. Buttons wore a dark suit with a light blue shirt. Shran was several decades older than his partner - half human and half andorian - an older man with a bit of a gut, wearing jeans, a gray shirt, a voluminous leathery overcoat and very highly polished shoes. Except for his almost obscenely large antennae, he looked entirely human. His looks and his strong Bronx accent came from his working class Jewish American heritage. Even his antennae were the wrong color for an andorian and somehow seemed to have something of the Bronx about them.  
“The girls are pinned down. Get back there and give them a way out - and use your brain this time - don’t get caught in there with them. I think I saw a dampening generator - if they get that up and running we’re in big trouble. See if you can find it and disable it - they’ll put it up high somewhere.” Shran cuffed his young partner lightly on the side of his head as Buttons headed off at a jog back toward the prison.

“Boss,” Shran said, his antennae pointing upward as he turned about, scanning the area. The communicator implanted in Shran’s chest discerned which boss Shran was addressing (he had a tendency to refer to all officers as “Boss”) and directed his voice up to the ground operations center on the Hunter, in orbit.  
Lieutenant Tauk was alone in the cramped ground operations center. A tiny, young and very pale ferengi, he seemed perfectly fitted to the scale of the room. “Go ahead, Shran.” Tauk’s voice seemed almost that of an adolescent.  
“We need air support down here, boss,” came Shran’s gravelly voice. “I had to step outside the jamming zone just to get through. T’Lok and the tactical team are pinned down about a klick north of the prison. Tell the pilots to look out for dampening fields. If they can jam our communicators, they might be able to jam out everything. I’m headed back in to provide support.”  
“You’ll have it. Anything else?” Tauk was already headed toward the door at the front of the ground operations center.  
“They were expecting us, boss. It’s going to take brute force to rescue the command staff. Better bring the wagon.”  
“Copy that,” Tauk responded as he exited the room, headed for the bridge.

2.2


	3. Episode 2.3 - The Courthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The command staff of the U.S.S. Hunter is trapped in the Courthouse at Virtue - and they're not supposed to make it out of there alive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Governor Emory Ivonovic is a major character. He is of Serbian descent. The last name is pronounced: I-VAHN-no-vitch.
> 
> This is the first beat of the character arc for Mlady - by far the deadliest character in these stories. As I hinted in Episode 1, she is not human at all - not really even a humanoid. I won't fully describe what she is until Season 2, but Season 1 has lots of little clues as to how deeply weird she is.

2.3  
The Courthouse

The courthouse was one of the oldest buildings in Virtue and a complex of prisons had gradually been built up around it. Justice Minerva Irons looked out through the barred windows of the judges chamber - a small office inside the courthouse - onto a courtyard long fallen into disrepair and gray, crumbling concrete buildings that served as prisons. These could be observed by looking out of any window in the courthouse. It seemed inevitable that what had once been a center for overweening, puritanical justice would become a seething cauldron of corruption.  
Justice Irons opened the door from the judges chamber into the courtroom and stepped up to the bench. About thirty men in generally drab civilian clothing were seated inside. They were neither witnesses nor an audience - they looked and behaved far more like a private army. Two security guards, their drab gray uniforms devoid of any emblems or badges, stood watch on either side of the judicial platform. Irons suspected the guards were corrupt.  
Irons’ tiny second officer sat alone at the prosecutor’s table. Apparently New Hope Colony was unable to provide a prosecutor to pursue any of the local charges. The planetary governor, dressed in a dark suit of simple, unadorned design but exceptionally well made, along with two other men in dark suits, sat at the defendant’s table. The Hunter’s gigantic first officer was nowhere to be seen - and there was nowhere in this room anything that large could possibly be concealed.   
Because one of the charges against the governor involved the Federation Charter, Justice Irons’ first officer was required to assist the defense team and her second officer was assigned to assist with prosecution as officers of the Federation Tribunal.

Irons did not sit down. “Will the counsel for the people approach.” It was a command, not a question.  
Lieutenant Commander Mlady - the only person in the room wearing a Star Fleet uniform - the black JAG uniform with red piping - stepped up to the dais. Irons spoke very, very quietly. “I smell explosives - possibly the chair.”  
Mlady’s nostrils flared. She responded just as quietly, “Pelletized nitrocellulose. Small amount.”  
“There are no objective observers in this room.. Can you handle this many men in a fight?”  
Mlady hesitated just for a second: “Yes, but without my phasers, it would be a bloody mess.”  
“Get out of here if you can. Find David.” Irons’ gaze strayed briefly to the men seated in the hard benches that served as an audience for this courtroom. “Seats C-1 and E-4 - those men have weapons,” Irons said quietly. She straightened and then spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone: “Counsel may step back,” She turned toward the defense table. “Where is the special counsel for the defense?”  
“Your honor, if I may,” the planetary governor began…  
“You may not,” Irons snapped. “I want to hear from your counsel. Where is the special counsel?”  
One of the dark suited men seated next to the governor stood up. “Your Honor, he has been dismissed. Our client does not trust him.”  
“Answer my question, counselor,” Irons used icy fury like a whip. Even in a room full of enemies, it had a powerful effect, sending a chill around the room.  
“He is in one of the offices down the hall.” The lawyer waived vaguely toward the door of the courtroom.  
“Produce him,” Justice Irons said frostily, then, without touching the gavel, block, desk or chair that had been set out for her, walked back toward the door to the judges chamber. The two guards moved quickly to follow her. “Court is in recess until then,” she said and quickly entered the judges chamber. The two guards barged in after her as she was trying to close the door. Chaos erupted in the courtroom as all the men in the room leapt to their feet.

Rather than try in vain to fight the two guards off along with probably a half-dozen thugs behind them, Irons stepped quickly to the side of the door, set her stance firmly, grabbed the jacket of the second guard and pulled him into the man in front of him, bringing them both stumbling into the room. It was a classic Tai Chi technique - she was using her attackers’ energy against them. While the two guards were regaining their balance, she quickly closed and locked the door.  
The first guard to regain his footing turned and charged toward her. With flowing, unhurried movements born of more than a century of training, Irons readied her stance, grabbed her attacker’s jacket again and, using the same Tai Chi technique she had used seconds before, redirected his momentum to send him crashing into a wall. His forehead smacked against the wall and he fell to his knees, stunned, as the second man charged toward her.  
Irons dodged around the desk, putting it between herself and her second attacker. She grabbed the gavel and block from the desk and sent the block spinning toward his head. The prison guard ducked this missile as Irons shrugged her way out of her judge’s robe and sent it spinning toward him. Her attacker pushed the garment away, his hands tangling briefly in it. This gave Irons the opening she needed to deliver a powerful, backhanded blow to his temple with the gavel.

CRACK!!

Justice Irons winced in pain and drew a sharp breath. The look of rage on her attacker’s face was replaced by a look of utter confusion as his eyes slowly crossed and he crumpled to the floor.  
The other man had clearly suffered from his encounter with the wall and was leaning heavily against it, his forehead against the wall, trying to regain his footing, his head wobbling - quite possibly from a concussion. Irons transferred the gavel to her left hand, moved up quickly behind him and delivered a powerful blow to the back of his head. His forehead smacked the wall again and he slid down the wall to the floor, unconscious.  
Irons set the gavel down, then hissed as she touched her right wrist. “Yeah, that’s broken.”  
There was a heavy thud against the other side of the door that led into the courtroom - not someone trying to get in, but someone sagging heavily against the other side. Now that her own fight was over, Justice Irons could hear the sounds of fighting from the courtroom had also ebbed. She had left her tiny second officer alone in a room with about thirty angry men.

They had no idea what they were up against.

A low snarling growl came from the other room, along with various groans. Mlady was probably feeding - the growl was a warning to whomever might be watching her that she did not like being watched while she was feeding. If any of the men in that room could still stand, they would be well advised to leave before she attacked again. Compassion was an emotion Mlady said she admired in humans, but claimed to never have actually experienced herself. When the need arose, she would kill without pity or hesitation.  
Justice Irons picked her robe up from the floor and donned it with some difficulty, then wrapped part of it around her right arm, creating a makeshift sling. She secured each of the unconscious prison guards with their own manacles, then opened the door that led into the courtroom. A dead man, who had been propped up against the other side of the door where he had fallen, slumped partly into the chamber. She stepped over his body and spotted Mlady seated on the floor behind another dying man, her fangs embedded in his neck, her black Star Fleet JAG uniform slick with blood. Irons surveyed the room - Mlady’s prediction had been accurate - a bloodbath. Blood was spattered on the walls and pooling on the floor. At least eighteen men lay dead or dying. The governor was not among them.  
“It’s over, Lieutenant Commander. We need to find David.” Irons deliberately avoided looking at her minuscule operations officer. At this point she could not do much but wait for Mlady to calm down. Irons sat in the back of the room, cradled her broken wrist and waited for her 2nd officer to regain her composure. Mlady had been a vicious predator far, far longer than she had been sentient.

2.3


	4. Episode 2.4 - Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The U.S.S. Hunter's Director of Ground Operations, Lt. T'Lok Smith is pinned down in old Virtue City along with most of her department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of a dampening field making phasers and disruptors useless. 
> 
> The idea of Star Fleet personnel reduced to protecting themselves with machine guns just strikes me as extremely cinematic.

2.4  
Pinned Down 

Lieutenant T’Lok Smith was pinned down along with the majority of her staff, taking disrupter fire. They had hunkered under a pair of overturned armored ground vehicles in the middle of a bombed out neighborhood of crumbling and damaged low-rise buildings. Ensign T’Lon’s team - four well trained young tactical specialists - all blended cardassian and bajoran - had grown up on the streets of a cardassian colony - unwanted by cardassians and bajorans alike. They were scrawny, tough and fiercely loyal to one another. Even clad in Star Fleet JAG uniforms with additional body armor and helmets, they still looked like street kids. Ensign T’Lon had easily been able to mold them into a formidable fighting unit.  
It was a good thing - the assignment to help the Virtue City Police to control the cultural demonstration had failed. The protesters turned out to be armed to the teeth with cardassian disrupters and within minutes the police were either mowed down or had fled.  
The street was littered with bodies - phasers and cardassian disrupter rifles lay where they had been dropped. Working as a team, Ensign T’Lon and her tactical squad had quickly driven the Iconoclasts from the street, but more than a dozen people in hardened positions in nearby buildings were still firing disrupters at the Hunter’s ground operations team. When they had tried to contact the Hunter for beamout, it became evident their signals were being jammed.

“I don’t get it,” said Belo Rys, the oldest of the tactical squad members. “I thought the Iconoclasts were a peaceful movement.”  
Jarrong, whose features tended more toward cardassian than her three half-bajoran cousins, responded, “They were, until the Naturalborn and some related separatist movements started marching under the Iconoclast banner… That is, if the Iconoclasts had a banner…” She completed her thought with a few phaser shots toward one of the hardened emplacements, only to observe the person who was firing at her get hit from a shot from behind him.  
Ensign T’Lon also saw the shot. She turned to her commanding officer, “That was a Star Fleet standard issue phaser - I think it's Buttons.”

T’Lok and T’Lon, while similar in looks, could not have been more different in personality. Ensign T’Lon was all vulcan. Lt. T’Lok Smith was half human. Both were slender, dark-skinned young women with long, straight auburn hair and strongly vulcan features, but Lt. Smith’s expressive face displayed a wide range of emotions that her fully vulcan ensign effortlessly suppressed.  
T’Lok looked out briefly, braving a hail of disrupter fire. “It is Buttons. How could you tell by the sound?”  
T’Lon responded evenly, “Duration. Investigator Shran barely allows his weapon to engage. Investigator Buttons’ discharges are somewhat longer.”  
A stutter of staccato phaser blasts brought the hail of disrupter fire to a sudden halt. They heard Shran’s gravelly voice yelling, “Buttons, up!” then within a few seconds the old investigator joined the team under the vehicles. It took a moment for him to catch his breath.  
“Need to get out of here while we..” Shran’s voice was cut off by hundreds of small explosions and the rattling of small objects on the vehicles the team was sheltering under. Shran and two of the half-bajoran members of T’Lon’s tactical squad attempted to return fire, but none of their phasers were working.  
“Projectile weapons?” T’Lok seemed incredulous.  
“Dampening field!” Shran was breathing hard and his voice was more gravelly than usual. “I thought I saw a damp generator being moved. Has to be nearby. We need some of those projectile weapons.”  
“Where would that generator be?” Ensign T’Lon scanned what little of the area she could see from their shelter.  
Shran holstered his now useless phaser, then reached under the back of his large leathery overcoat and produced a very large handgun - nothing like Star Fleet issue. “Service revolver from my days in the Andorian Imperial Guard,” he said in response to several quizzical looks. “That generator’s probably on a roof - my bet would be the highest one so they could project emitters upward to catch any low-flying support vessels.”  
Ensign T’Lon gestured toward a nearby building. “T’Lok, if Investigator Shran can cover me, I can get up in there and try to locate that generator.”  
Shran looked at T’Lon’s team, who had shifted their stances - ready to support her. He shook his head at them and gestured to his revolver, “Eighteen rounds. I can only cover one runner.”  
T’Lok did not hesitate. “Go!”

T’Lon waited for a break in the projectile fire, then sprinted from the shelter toward the nearest building. Shran stood up and fired his revolver, each shot deafening. The recoil from the weapon required him to use both hands to steady it. Each round exploded on impact, showering his targets with shrapnel. The firepower from the antique weapon was impressive. He ducked back down as T’Lon disappeared into the building.  
“Boss,” Shran was addressing T’Lok, “we gotta get outta here. They have a dampener, I bet they have artillery.”  
“How are you going to cover all of us?”   
“I won’t be the only one.. Your ensign picked up a band rifle in there.” Shran cast an eye toward the second floor of the building T’Lon had run into. 

Almost on cue, T’Lon appeared at one of the 2nd story windows with a cardassian band rifle - a projectile weapon similar to a machine gun. She opened up on the positions that were firing at the overturned vehicles.  
“On me!” T’Lok commanded, running toward T’Lon’s position. Shran stood up and fired his revolver again, sending people scrambling away from their positions with each hit. He was the last to join the lieutenant and her team inside the building. T’Lok and most of the team were already climbing a central staircase. Belo Cantys, the youngest member of T’Lon’s tactical squad, was waiting for Shran, covering his entrance with another scavenged band rifle.  
Shran heard a familiar low, percussive ringing sound (“foop!!”) and something clattered into the room behind him. He leapt at Cantys, pressing her into a corner and ducking his head, covering them both with his overcoat as an explosion rocked the room.  
Shran stepped back and flapped the coat, sending a number of small, sharp objects rattling to the floor. “Armored,” he said in response to a quizzical look from Cantys. “After you.” He gestured toward the stairs.

2.4


	5. Episode 2.5 - Kenneth Dolphin Commanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lt. Kenny Dolphin is transferred to the U.S.S. Hunter and takes command the moment he steps on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to anyone who gets the dream promotion, then within minutes on their first day, realize they have been given a screaming disaster to manage and have to take charge and wrangle it to the ground.

2.5  
Kenneth Dolphin Commanding

Dr. Sarekson Carrera was exiting the bridge when Lt. Tauk arrived. Aside from the bowl haircut, the only sign of Dr. Carrera’s vulcan great grandfather was the young chief engineer’s emotionless demeanor. It wasn’t working perfectly at the moment - his expression was frosty and he was walking a bit too carefully - as if to avoid storming off the bridge.  
Tauk wondered what had rattled Carrera. When he stepped onto the bridge and saw who was in command, it became apparent. The little ferengi almost squeaked - Justice Irons was legendary within Star Fleet circles, but Tauk had never seen an actual celebrity before. “Dr. Kenny Dolphin? The Morality of Hybridizing Sentient Species?”  
Lt. Dolphin was tall, lean, blonde and arrogantly handsome. Slight wrinkles around the eyes and grey at his temples were the only indication that he was middle-aged. Like Tauk, Lt. Dolphin’s black JAG uniform had gold piping, signifying operations. But Dolphin had two solid pips on his collar - a first lieutenant - a senior officer. Tauk was a 2nd lieutenant - Star Fleet tended to draw a significant difference between senior and junior officers.  
“That’s Lieutenant Dolphin to you, and I’m not signing autographs today, Lieutenant. Report.” Dolphin’s demeanor was calm and warm - a bit of a smile.  
Tauk was briefly confused, then remembered why he had come to the bridge. “The tactical team is pinned down and we’ve lost contact with the command staff. One of my investigators got through and called for air support.”  
Dolphin quickly sat down in the captain’s chair, then turned his attention to the pilot’s station. “Staff Tactical - Gamor, take Salazaar. Get Phillips up here to take your seat.” 2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor stood up from her station and called for Phillips and Salazaar as Lt. Dolphin continued giving orders: “Flight Specialists Joey Chin and Dih Terri,” Dolphin didn’t wait for the communications system to carry his voice to the interceptor bays - it would relay the entire message to them with less than a second’s delay. “Strap in and launch your interceptors when ready. Ensign Sun, you’re in command of the wagon - I need your expertise on the transporter. Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth - you’re flying the wagon. Don’t wait for orders - launch as soon as you’re both on board and grab some atmosphere. Gamor…” Lt. Gamor had already left the bridge and Ensign Ethan Phillips had arrived and was taking the pilot’s station on the bridge.  
“The tactical unit is ready to launch,” came Gamor’s voice from the Hunter’s tactical bridge.  
“Launch already!” Dolphin’s voice was calm, but urgent. He had been on board less than fifteen minutes, but he seemed completely at home in the captain’s chair and had clearly memorized the Hunter’s crew roster. “Lieutenant Tauk,” Dolphin swiveled the captain’s chair so he was facing the young ferengi who was still standing at the back of the bridge. “Take the bridge tactical station, transfer your operation screens up here and coordinate air support.”  
“Sir?” Tauk was taken aback - he had never been given this much responsibility and had expected Lt. Dolphin to command this operation.  
Dolphin turned to look at him again. “You know the area and the situation. You’ve been trained for this, Lieutenant. You’re the best chance our people have. Tell the flight team what to expect and where to train their fire.” He turned his attention back to the viewer.

The Hunter’s two interceptors (nimble 2-seat vessels with light armaments designed for ground support, in-atmosphere combat and limited open space interception) were already entering the atmosphere. The wagon (a heavily armed and armored shuttle) and the Hunter’s Tactical Unit (an independently warp capable section of the boat bristling with heavy weapons and shield emitters) were close behind. 

Tauk was at a loss for words, then remembered something important. He opened a channel to the support vessels: “All units, don’t get too close to the ground until the ground operations team makes contact. We suspect there’s at least one dampening generator down there, probably more. Try to locate those and take them out. See if you can hone in on the jamming emitters too. We need communication with our ground crew down there before you can provide close support. Pinpoint firing, minimal power. Our people might be trying to shut those things down when you find them, so use just enough power to turn them off. Let’s not have any friendly fire incidents.”  
Dolphin smiled without turning. Star Fleet was his third career and he had only been promoted to 1st lieutenant a few hours ago. But there was no need to let the junior officers know that. Dolphin felt confident he could handle this situation, but this was a perfect opportunity to grow the young 2nd lieutenant in his career. The ferengi wouldn’t be here with one solid pip and one hollow pip on his collar if he wasn’t trained and ready for this.

Tauk spoke up again, “Star Fleet planetary is hailing us, sir.”  
Dolphin leaned forward in the command chair. “On screen.”  
A bearded, middle aged and clearly irritated Star Fleet lieutenant in a red uniform appeared on the viewer. Dolphin greeted him: “U.S.S. Hunter, Kenneth Dolphin commanding. How can I help you, Lieutenant?”  
“Lieutenant Allen Mitchell, Director of New Hope Colony Planetary Operations,” the irritated officer replied. “I have fire fights in my streets and your flotilla in my sky. I’m going to have to ask you to turn those boats around.”  
“This is a law enforcement operation, Lieutenant.” Dolphin responded amiably, “Keep your birds on the deck and your satellites dark. I will let you know if we need your support.”  
“You don’t outrank me, Lieutenant Dolphin, you have no authority to issue those orders,” Mitchell snapped, jabbing a finger at the two solid pips on his own collar.  
“Star Fleet Charter, Mr. Mitchell,” Dolphin replied, his demeanor swiftly changing from collegial to coldly matter-of-fact. “All law enforcement and planetary security operations within Federation boundaries shall be conducted by and coordinated through the Office of the Judge Advocate General. I’m wearing the black uniform. Stand down, Lieutenant. That is an order. Hunter out.” Dolphin made a cutting gesture and Tauk cut the circuit - the image of the irritated director of New Hope Colony planetary operations was replaced with a view of the planet.  
“Hunter…“ Dolphin looked around the bridge. The vessel’s interactive avatar, in the image of an older man in civilian clothing with a white lab coat, a gray beard and a pot belly, appeared to the right of the command chair, just behind the navigator’s station.  
“Lieutenant Dolphin,” the avatar responded evenly.  
Dolphin turned toward the hologram. “Please keep an eye on the satellites and on the interceptor hanger doors on New Hope. If one of those satellites so much as makes an orbital adjustment, I want it on the viewer. Same thing if we get a hanger door opening.”  
“The hanger doors are closed, but several of the satellites are scanning us,” Hunter replied.  
“That’s fine. They can look. But if a targeting scanner or a weapons system lights up, I want Tauk to take it out,” Dolphin relaxed back into the captain’s chair.  
“Sir?” Tauk was incredulous.  
“Commander Pepper sent me the mission specs, Lieutenant. We don’t know the loyalties of the local planetary unit. If those hanger doors open, I want a phaser, broad beam, low power on that door. Not enough to destroy an interceptor, but enough that they won’t want to fly one through it. As for the satellites, they’re antiques. I don’t mind blowing up junk if it appears to be.. uhmm,” Dolphin swiveled to favor the young 2nd lieutenant with a smile, “malfunctioning.” Dolphin turned back to the viewer. “Mind your operation, Lieutenant.”

2.5


	6. Episode 2.6 - Pepper Revival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander David Pepper has been savagely beaten and left for dead. It turns out he is far tougher than he appears...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Governor Emory Ivonovic is of Serbian descent. His last name is pronounced Aye-VOHN-no-vitch.
> 
> I like the idea of people on the ground being enveloped in a low-power, broad phaser beam from a ship in orbit. More of a probe than an attack - I think being inside such a beam would be extremely unpleasant and quite a bit like having a stroke. This tactic could be used for crowd control. Be damn glad we don't actually have this capability. Maybe I shouldn't be giving our war machine ideas...

2.6  
Pepper Revival

Every part of Commander David Pepper’s body ached. He sat up and groaned. Even the largest man could be brought down by a phaser on stun and Pep had been stunned by several phasers. Repeatedly. Pep’s head was pounding and his body was covered with deep bruises. Evidently these people had kept stunning him well after he had lost consciousness and left him here for dead. He got to his feet, rolled his head, stretched and tried to shake the beating off. It would have killed any other man he had met - even a klingon would have been unlikely to survive such a beating.  
There were three other men lying on the floor - also victims of being repeatedly stunned by prison phasers. Pep had agreed to meet with local prosecutors and Governor Ivonovic’s defense team to work out a few deals on the local charges. Pep had awakened in tremendous pain. The Virtue City Prosecutors had not been not so fortunate.

This room had a single door. Pep tried it. It was locked. But it really wasn’t much of a door - medium-grade plastic. Pep set his ear to it. Nothing. He kicked the door and shattered it. He pushed through what was left of the door into a hallway. Windows along one wall - doors along the other. Pep recognized this hallway from the schematics of the building. On the other side of those doors were rooms like the one he had awakened in. The hallway that led to the courtroom was on the other side of those rooms - but none of them had doors that opened into that hallway. And there was no quick way to get back to that other hallway.  
Pep walked from room to room, opening doors, looking for a passageway into the other hallway. Stone walls. Old stone walls with crumbling masonry. On the other side of that wall he could hear a distant noise - men screaming and possibly running.  
Pep selected a room that appeared to have a much weakened wall on the other side. He crossed the room at a dead run, not slowing as he crashed into the wall. The wall exploded outward into the hall on the other side - creating a hole big enough for Pep to crush through - sending still more stone and crumbling masonry into the hall. The far end of the hall was full of activity - men spilling out of a room. The planetary governor, flanked by his lawyers, was running toward Pep. They were much closer to him than the rest of the chaos in the hall. They came to a stop as soon as they realized there was no getting around the giant filling the hall.

Pep launched toward them into a full run. The governor’s lawyers were both clearly not trained body guards. They scrambled all over each other and their client trying to get away from the giant officer hurtling toward them, making the governor’s escape impossible in the process. Pep crashed into all three of them, landing on top of them. He stood up, lifting the governor and expertly turning him until he had the governor pinned against a wall, holding the man’s wrists behind his back with one enormous hand. He turned to glare at the lawyers: “GET!”  
The two men in dark suits lost no time - but they weren’t running back toward the courtroom. Both squeezed past Pep, then raced away. Evidently they were even more afraid of whatever it was that the other men at the end of the hall were fleeing from in that courtroom. Pep had no doubt what that was.  
Pep propelled the governor into the hole he had made in the wall and followed him through. “Sit!” There wasn’t a chair, but there was a table. Pep lifted the governor and deposited him on the table. “It appears you have lost your representation, governor… At this moment, I am probably the best friend you have. So don’t piss me off.” Pep leaned against the wall between the desk and the door, recovering his strength, waiting for the commotion in the hall to settle down.

Planetary Governor Emory Ivonovic was a fairly big man himself, but even though he was in good shape, he was too old to try to fight the abomination that had captured him. He had seen this giant being repeatedly hammered with prolonged phaser fire - set on stun because that was the only setting available on prison phasers. It should have killed the giant. He certainly shouldn’t have been able to recover enough in less than an hour to barge through a stone wall.  
The governor could not keep the disgust from his face. Normally he was fairly adept at hiding his emotions - a critical skill for a politician - but not after a disaster like today. He was still hopeful for a rescue - this was his home base. Multiple dampening fields would prevent Star Fleet from beaming him out from anywhere other than the secure transporter pad and there were enough armed guards in that part of the facility to stop even this giant and whatever that little beast was that had just turned the courtroom into a meat grinder.

Suddenly everything turned a hissing pinkish orange. Ivonovic felt sick - like he needed to throw up. “I think I’m having a stroke,” he moaned and bent over.   
Pep’s voice was level, but it was clear he was also in pain. “Phaser - wide beam - very low energy…” he managed. The grim, hissing light finally swept on.

“What was that about?” Ivonovic was genuinely curious.  
“Counter-insurgency tactics,” Pep responded. He rolled his head, and stretched his arms - vague popping noises from enormous joints. “You’re running dampening fields. We use a broad, low power beam and look for dark spots to tell us where the dampening emitters are. Now we’ll be feeding a focused low energy beam directly into those emitters. The emitters will soak that energy up until the generators explode. Most generators make a lot of noise when you feed them too much juice - which should give anyone nearby a chance to get away before they blow.”  
“How about you hand me that phaser,” Pep added, an enormous hand open just in front of the governor. Ivonovic thought briefly about how futile any attempt to use a prison phaser against this giant would be. He removed the phaser from his coat pocket and dropped it into Pep’s hand. The commander deposited the prison weapon in a cargo pocket on the right side of his uniform.  
“Good move.” Pep was starting to sound a little more like his usual cheerful self. “Okay - now - it sounds like things have settled down. Back through the wall.”  
Ivonovic could not see any reason to not comply, but as soon as Pep followed him through the large hole the giant had punched through the wall, he turned the governor back toward the courtroom.  
“I am NOT going back into that room! Not as long as that… thing is in there,” the governor said.  
“That thing is Lieutenant Commander Mlady - she’s the sweetest person you will ever meet. Until you back her into a corner.” Ivonovic looked incredulously at the commander. “Or if she gets really hungry…” Pep continued.  
The governor’s eyes widened.  
Pep landed an enormous hand on the governor’s shoulder, turning him firmly toward the courtroom again and gestured with his other hand.

2.6


	7. Episode 2.7 - The Dampening Generator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigator Buttons Ngumbo discovers and disables the dampening generator - but it isn't enough...

2.7  
The Dampening Generator

Investigator Buttons Ngumbo had made it up five flights of stairs past fighters who had been stunned either by his own phaser or by Investigator Shran’s incredibly accurate fire from the ground. Buttons’ dark skin and dark suit were damp with sweat. This was the tallest building in the area - chances were the dampening field generator Shran had seen earlier was on this roof.   
Halfway up the sixth flight, Buttons suddenly found himself faced by a very surprised looking man at the top of the stairs. Buttons raised his phaser and pressed the trigger just as the man aimed a cardassian disrupter at him. Neither weapon worked.  
The man at the top of the stairs hurled the useless disrupter at the young investigator and fumbled around his back for another weapon. Buttons trusted his speed - he charged up the stairs, grappled with the man, taking him off balance and sent him tumbling down the stairs - into another man who had gotten behind Buttons and was also fumbling for a rifle that was slung on his back. 

Investigator Buttons burst through a door onto the roof, his useless phaser still in hand. Two men were on the roof, but they were not expecting an enemy. One was adjusting the settings on a large generator, aiming dampening field emitters. The other was firing a cardassian band rifle down toward the street below.   
As Buttons raced across the roof, the man with the rifle suddenly exploded - Buttons recognized the effect of Shran’s service revolver - he had seen those explosive rounds in action before. The other man was both terrified and distracted by his comrade’s explosive demise - he was completely unaware of the young investigator’s presence. Buttons tackled him and shoved him off the roof.  
Buttons spotted a cardassian band rifle leaning against the generator. He retrieved the rifle in time to use it mow down the two men whom he had encountered in the stairwell - now emerging onto the roof in pursuit. For the moment unchallenged, Buttons briefly studied the dampening generator. This machine was too sturdy to be damaged by bullets. Fortunately, the investigator could read cardassian standard script and he managed to shut the device off. 

He took a few steps back. 

Bullets from a band rifle couldn’t damage this dampening generator - but with the dampening field shut down, Buttons’ phaser at full power was more than sufficient to permanently disable the device.  
With a grim sense of satisfaction, Buttons stepped around the smoking remains of the dampening generator. “Old man - can you hear me?” The communicator embedded in his chest could now work and keyed its signal to reach out to Shran - but the signal was still jammed. There must be a separate jamming device - and that was likely located closer to ground level.  
Buttons took a deep breath, stepped over the bullet ridden bodies of the men he had encountered on the stairs whom he had shot moments ago. He headed back down the stairs - phaser in one hand and cardassian band rifle in the other.

2.7


	8. Episode 2.8 - Fly By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chief Guth talks Ensign Sun into authorizing a fly by. Both make mistakes that get them into trouble later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth is a veteran pilot and the highest ranking enlisted personnel on the U.S.S. Hunter's crew. His last name is pronounced "Gooth" (same as the American physicist Alan Guth). 
> 
> Even though I describe Guth's human heritage as African American, I also think of him as a distant relative to his namesake.

2.8  
Fly By

Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth kept the wagon - a heavily armed and armored shuttle - well above the range of any portable dampening generator. He had remained at a fairly high altitude, but he was swiftly tiring of playing it safe. The heavy armor on the shuttle was designed to protect its power systems against many forms of attack, including energy dampening fields. It would take a very powerful system to create a dampening field strong enough to affect the wagon.  
Guth could tell that a dampening field was in place because he was receiving no life form readings from the area the Hunter’s ground operations team were last reported to be. No life signs alive or dead. He tapped the life sensor readout in irritation and almost as if in response, the device came alive, displaying a large number of people down there - along with now active phasers and disruptors. From this altitude the sensors could not distinguish humans from bajorans, but they could easily identify four cardassians, one andorian and two vulcans all in one building and surrounded. Guth looked over at Ensign Sun Ho Hui. Ensign Sun was half vulcan, part Vietnamese and a few other things as well - but he was pretty much a vulcan. “Did you see that, sir?”  
Sun turned to favor Guth with a level gaze. “It appears the dampening field has been turned off. But communications are still jammed - to the point that I cannot obtain a transporter lock. I cannot identify Investigator Buttons either. He does not appear to be with the main group.”  
“Permission for a fly-by, sir,” Guth said. He was itching to get closer to the ground.  
Sun looked quizzically at Guth. “Where is the logic in that? They might have turned off the dampener to draw us in.”  
Chief Guth boggled at the young Ensign. “Very unlikely, sir. Our people don’t have projectile weapons. The locals wouldn’t turn that thing off unless our team were dead or captured. The scanner shows our people are together, by themselves and on the move. We could distract their enemies.”  
Ensign Sun raised an eyebrow, then raised the other one. “That sounds reasonable.” The young vulcan unconsciously looked up. “Lieutenant Tauk,” The communications system directed Sun’s voice up to the tactical station on the bridge of the Hunter in orbit far above. “The dampening field near the ground operation group is off and we are now reading Lieutenant Smith and her team. We cannot beam them out. I am requesting permission for a fly-by to give Lieutenant Smith some cover to move.”

The line was silent for a moment.

Tauk’s voice came back, “All units be advised, the wagon is cleared for a fly-by, but only the wagon. Interceptors keep your altitude, but return fire on any position that fires on the wagon.”  
Guth pressed a button, and pulled the control stick out from under the wagon’s pilot console. It had been stored under the console in a horizontal position. He rotated the stick 90 degrees into the upright operating position, activating the controller. “Hang on to something, sir, I’m reducing the internal inertial dampeners.”  
Sun Ho Hui checked his seat restraint, then gripped the arms of the chair.  
Dewayne Guth gripped the stick and took the wagon plummeting down several hundred meters to buzz the building tops at high speed, creating a rush of displaced air. If he could not rescue the team, at least he could let them know help was near and give their enemies something else to worry about.

2.8


	9. Episode 2.9 - Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigator Buttons disables the jamming device. 
> 
> Ensign Sun Ho Hui beams the ground operations department onto the wagon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In most segments I try to stick with one or two viewpoints. But this scene is a chaotic one and so it jumps from 2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor's viewpoint to 2nd Lt. Tauk to Lt. T'Lok Smith and a lot of it is radio chatter.

2.9  
Rescue

  
2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor was piloting the tactical unit. Flight Specialist Winnifred Salazaar sat next to her, focusing pinpoint phaser fire on the dampening emitters throughout the prison complex. Dampening emitters were easy to identify - and therefore easy to destroy. The jamming equipment that was preventing communications and transporter lock would be much harder to find from up here.

Salazaar had a bit of a Puerto Rican accent - and a bit of New York. Part betazoid, he had a tendency to answer Lt. Gamor’s thoughts as often as anything she actually said. “Dewayne will be fine, sir.”  
Gamor had long ago decided that this wasn’t creepy - at least intellectually. “How are you doing with those emitters?” She made a minor flight adjustment and checked the positions of the interceptors. Both were hovering below the tactical unit and had taken up stations to support the wagon while avoiding getting between the tactical unit and the courthouse/prison complex.  
“I estimate four minutes until they are all down,” Salazaar responded.  
Lt. Gamor unconsciously looked up when she called to the Hunter, “Hunter Ops, this is the Tactical Unit.”  
“Tactical Unit go ahead,” came Lt. Tauk’s boyish voice from the Hunter platform in orbit, far above.  
“We should have the dampening emitters down within four minutes. Requesting permission to send the interceptors down to provide ground support.”

There was a brief pause. Salazaar looked over at Gamor and raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Verified on the emitters,” came the young ferengi’s voice. “Be advised to keep the tactical unit in the upper atmosphere. All units be advised - Flight Specialists Dih and Chin break and support the wagon. Shoot at anything that shoots at the wagon, but low power and pinpoint. Keep an eye on our ground team. No fatalities.” Tauk was clearly nervous.  
Investigator Buttons’ voice suddenly broke through the clutter noise from the ground - “Emergency beamout! Emergency b…” the sounds of disruptor fire and cardassian band rifles cut out along with Buttons’ voice. Ensign Sun’s calm voice cut through.

“This is Ensign Sun. I have him. Retrieving the ground team now.”

Tauk was back on line. “Mr. Guth, get the wagon out of there. The dampening fields around the courthouse are almost down. Prepare to retarget. Buttons - report.”  
Investigator Buttons came back into the conversation, “I located… and took… took down the jammer…” his voice was unstable.  
Lt. T’Lok Smith’s voice cut through. “Buttons is wounded. Medical - prepare to receive him directly. Ensign Sun, please send him up now. Tauk - are you running this operation?”  
“Under orders from Lieutenant Dolphin,” Tauk responded.  
Lt. Smith was clearly excited and exhausted at the same time. She paced around the flight booth of the wagon. Ensign Sun Ho Hui had beamed her entire team directly into the operations staging area in the aft of the wagon. She had come forward to the flight booth along with Investigator Shran to check on Buttons and ask Sun to beam Buttons directly to the medical bay in the Hunter platform in orbit. “Well done, Tauk. Continue to direct air support. Let me know when we can retrieve the command staff from the courthouse.”  
Tauk’s voice was clearly relieved, “Thank you T’Lok - about three minutes - I’m really glad you’re back, boss.”  
T’Lok Smith laughed lightly, then said, “You should spend less time around Investigator Shran. You’re picking up his bad habits..”  
“Hey!” came Shran’s gravelly voice.

2.9


	10. Episode 2.10 - Indicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Governor Ivonovic is indicted for violations of the Federation Charter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While my story is definitely topical, it is not allegorical. Governor Ivonovic is not President Trump - or a stand-in for any other current politician. 
> 
> He is both deliciously corrupt and a man of devoutly held principles.
> 
> Of all the characters in these stories, Emory Ivonovic has by far the biggest and strangest character arc.

2.10  
Indicted

Lt. Commander Mlady looked at her hands, willing the retracted skin of her fingers to relax and cover her claws. She really didn’t have much voluntary control over this - the skin would retract autonomically, exposing her powerful claws whenever her fight or flight response kicked in. Her breathing was returning to normal. She licked blood off her fangs and wiped it from her face with her sleeve. She hated having to fight literally tooth and nail - and not just because her fangs and claws could be damaged.  
Mlady’s unique metabolism could sustain incredible bursts of speed, driving her much faster than possible for any other animal her size, allowing her to deploy the weapons of a panther with the blinding speed of a snake. But she paid a terrible price for sustaining this blinding speed. As her cells were starved of metabolized oxygen and vital proteins burned, her higher brain functions began to shut down until she was reduced to a ravenous beast, driven only by ferocious hunger and the most brutish of survival instincts. Her victims paid an even heavier price - death by exsanguination as she extracted desperately needed oxygen and proteins directly from their blood. In this condition she was as dangerous to friend as to foe - they were nothing more than prey to her.  
Her consciousness came back to her in surprising rags and flashes - gradually reminding her that she was much more than just a hungry beast. As her breathing returned to normal, Mlady slowly realized, as though for the first time, that she was a Star Fleet officer, a skilled lawyer, and an accomplished scientist - a brilliant biologist whose sentience and intelligence had come at a far more terrible price still.  
  
Justice Irons was sitting on one of the benches near the door, nursing her broken wrist, looking more old and tired than Mlady had ever seen her. Mlady cleared her throat - not liking the growling sound in her voice. She calmed and relaxed her voice to her normal, studied alto. “Your honor?” she asked, almost apologetically.  
Irons straightened her neck, squared her shoulders, and regained her composure before looking up, smoothing years from her appearance almost as an act of will. “Are you okay, Lieutenant Commander?” Irons almost never addressed Mlady by name.  
“I’m worried about Pep. They tried to kill us - I think they meant to kill all three of us.”  
“David is fine,” Irons responded. “Here he is now…”  
Governor Ivonovic walked reluctantly into the room, followed by the enormous Commander David Pepper.  
Mlady leapt to her feet, clearing the ground like a gymnast, then landing lightly; “PEP!!”  
Pep bowed - partly as a gallant gesture toward his second officer - but mostly because it was the only way he could fit through the doorway.

Justice Irons stood up - her right arm held up by her makeshift sling. “Planetary Governor Emory Ivonovic,” she said - her voice taking on a stentorian tone. “Given local conditions, I am delaying the hearing on local charges and focusing on the charge of conspiracy to defraud a charter Federation electoral system. On that charge how do you plead?”  
Pep spoke up before the Governor could say anything, “Your honor - a moment with my client?”  
Irons allowed herself a momentary look of exasperation. She waved with her left hand.  
Pep draped an enormous hand over Ivonovic’s shoulder and drew him aside. His voice became very soft. “This is a far more serious charge than you may realize, Governor. I strongly recommend you take it seriously and think carefully about your response.”  
“Election fraud?” Ivonovic’s voice was incredulous.  
“Involving a charter Federation electoral system. The Colony of New Hope is one of the nineteen charter worlds,” Pep replied.  
Ivonovic pulled away from the giant. The room stank of blood, but even that horrible reek didn’t overcome the unpleasant smell of the giant’s breath. He had no intention of getting close enough to the other abomination in this room to smell her breath. None of the corpses in the room appeared to have been partially eaten, but he could easily imagine it after seeing the little beast fight.

Ivonovic whirled imperiously, drew himself to full height and stated firmly, “Not guilty. No way. Never happened.”

Irons was steely in her response. “Governor Ivonovic, I am holding you over for trial at the Federation Tribunal. Once you are in custody, you may contact your special counsel at any time to assist with your defense. You are also entitled to legal representation before the Tribunal by lawyers of your own choosing, if you can afford them.”  
“If I can afford…” the governor’s voice trailed off as the more important part of that sentence got through to him… “Federation Tribunal??”  
Irons looked up at her first officer. “David…” she gestured with her head toward the governor, then turned and walked away.  
“I told you it was serious. You have been accused and indicted for violation of Sections 2 and 29 of the Federation Charter. A charter world, once having established a democratic form of government, is protected by Section 29. Anyone attempting to defraud such an electoral system must answer to the Tribunal.”  
“I’ve never heard of this!” Ivonovic said.  
“You were given a printed copy of the Federation Charter,” Pep responded. “You should have read it.”  
  
Ensign T’Lon’s tactical team chose that moment to bustle into the room, followed by the ensign herself. Her eyebrows registered surprise at the carnage. “Are you ready for beamout, your honor?”  
Irons turned to look at the young vulcan. “Yes, Ensign. Have your team clean up this mess.”  
“Aye, Captain,” T’Lon responded. Belo Cantys, Belo Rys and Belo Garr were each carrying pattern enhancers slung on their backs. They placed these in a triangle and ushered the command staff into the area before engaging the devices. Jarrong, whose cardassian features were much stronger than her half-bajoran cousins, was headed toward the judges chambers as the transporter engaged, removing the command staff and their prisoner up to the Hunter platform in orbit.

2.10


	11. Episode 2.11 - The Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew returns to the U.S.S. Hunter - some with injuries...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may seem an odd plot point, but Justice Irons' broken wrist is an important early development in her character arc. 
> 
> This apparently minor injury will turn up again and again, revealing something far more important about the Hunter's captain...

2.11  
The Wounded

Lt. Tauk was concerned about Investigator Buttons, who had just been beamed to the medical bay with unspecified wounds. He checked his readout. “All staff are retrieved and the birds are returning to the nest. The tactical unit has cleared the atmosphere.”  
Lt. Dolphin responded without turning away from the viewer, “I’ll see to putting things away, Lieutenant. Go check on your man.” He waved vaguely with the back of his hand at the young officer standing behind him.  
Tauk nearly ran from the bridge.

The Medical Bay was one of the largest sections of the boat since it also encompassed the brig. The Hunter was cramped compared to most Star Fleet vessels, but the brig was a large complex - designed to hold up to twenty-six prisoners in very small, individual cells. All of these cells opened onto a large operating chamber that could accommodate eight surgeries simultaneously. This area was generally used for forensic examinations and another surgical bay with two beds adjoined that could not be viewed from the brig. Both surgeries contained forensic workstations. Medical offices were located fore of and to the right of the smaller surgery. 

Tauk found Dr. Tali Shae in the office. This was not surprising - although the large, curvy andorian woman was the chief medical officer, she left most surgeries on the living to her second - Dr. Jazz. Dr. Shae’s specialty was forensic investigation.  
“How is he?” Tauk asked.  
Dr. Shae looked at Tauk quizzically. Her antennae focused briefly on the small ferengi - then appeared to go back to wandering aimlessly. “If Ngumbo were in any danger, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?” Dr. Shae was a little older than middle age and her manner often seemed impatient to younger people. “He blew up a jamming generator and ended up dropping half a building on himself. That earned him a few broken bones and some nasty lacerations and bruises. Dr. Jazz is sewing him up now. We’ve already mended the bones.”  
Dr. Shae suddenly stood up, her antennae focusing on the door behind Lt. Tauk.  
Tauk turned to see Justice Irons walking into the office, her right arm in a makeshift sling.  
“Oh, let me have a look at that, Minerva,” Dr. Shae said - concern evident in her voice.  
“Broken wrist. I got into a fist fight,” Irons responded.  
“And the other guy?”  
“Last I saw him, he was unconscious and in manacles.”  
Tali Shae laughed. Her antennae twitched. “You knocked him out?”  
“With a gavel… Them - there were two of them..” Justice Irons maintained a steady gaze.  
Dr. Tali Shae laughed harder. “Okay - let’s have a look…”  
Irons turned her attention to Lt. Tauk. “I heard you ran the air support operation, Lieutenant. I want a detailed report while the doctor tends to my wrist. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”

2.11


	12. Episode 2.12 - First Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justice Irons evaluates Lt. Dolphin's first command.
> 
> Flight Operations Director, Lt. Kenny Dolphin meets Ground Operations Director, Lt. T'Lok Smith for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always loved the first scene between Riker and Picard in the premier episode of STNG - in which Picard is able to establish authority, trust and friendship with a critically important ally. 
> 
> I couldn't resist riffing on it...

2.12  
First Command

  
Lt. Gamor secured the tactical unit, then came down the hatch into the bridge, followed by Flight Specialist Salazaar at almost the same moment that Commander Pepper and Lt. Commander Mlady entered from the rear of the bridge. Lt. Dolphin stood up and turned. Pep’s deep voice filled the bridge. “Kenny Dolphin…” The giant first officer smiled broadly. “You are not relieved, not yet. As you were.”

Dolphin turned back to the viewer and resumed his seat in the captain’s chair. “Flight Specialists Dih and Chin - report any damage.”  
“None sir,” came Dih’s voice, followed by Chin, “interceptor secured, no damage, sir.”  
“You are both dismissed to your duty stations. Dock check your birds and prepare full reports. Ensign Sun, Chief Guth - please remain with the wagon. I will meet you up there in a few minutes.”  
“Make that 20 minutes,” came Justice Irons’ voice from the back of the room.  
Dolphin stood up again, but continued to face forward. Irons walked to the front of the bridge, stopped at the pilot station. “Ensign Phillips.”  
Ensign Ethan Phillips looked up, “Your honor?”  
Irons laid her left hand on the console. Her right arm was in a proper sling with a splint on her hand and wrist. “As you were,” she said quietly, looking down at the ensign, then turned her gaze to Lt. Dolphin.  
“Ethan Phillips at the pilot station. Sun and Guth in the wagon. Gamor in the tactical unit. Mr. Dolphin, you know the reason I wanted you on this boat is because you are the best pilot in Star Fleet. But when I needed air support you weren’t at any pilot console - not even this one.” She lightly tapped the pilot console with a fingernail. “You didn’t even run the air support operation - you delegated that to a second lieutenant with no tactical flight or command experience. A ground operations officer who has never logged any flight hours.”  
Dolphin met Irons’ steady gaze. He had been told she preferred eye contact. “Aye, Captain.” Behind him, Commander Pepper cleared his throat.  
“I also heard about your conversation with Lieutenant Mitchell. You pulled rank on a fellow first lieutenant using the “black uniform” gag - is that correct, Lieutenant Dolphin?”  
“Aye, Captain.” Dolphin maintained eye contact. Irons was an intimidating woman - as intimidating as anyone he had ever met. But Dolphin had faced down hostile audiences - he had spent years as the most reviled man in the Federation. He heard the giant commander clear his throat again - and catch his breathing. Dolphin’s curiosity was aroused. Irons had a reputation as a disciplinarian, but she was no fool and he had followed procedure to the letter. There was a curious glint in her eye.  
“And how long have you worn the black uniform, Lieutenant?”  
“I put it on about 20 minutes before transporting over from the Enterprise.” Dolphin knew Irons was well aware of this. Behind him, he heard the giant commander catch his breath again, almost a sob.  
“And exactly when were you promoted to First Lieutenant?”  
“This morning, your honor. The second full pip came with the uniform.”  
Pep simply couldn’t hold it any longer. He nearly came unglued with repressed laughter.  
Irons broke into a smile as well, then chuckled quietly. She stepped forward and put her left hand on Dolphin’s chest. “Very fine first command, Lieutenant. You and Lieutenant Tauk are the bright spots in what has been a disastrous day.” She tapped his chest with a finger. “Don’t be too hard on Ensign Sun - he belongs to Lieutenant Carrera’s department. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that, do I?” Irons stepped back, then turned toward her office. “Commander, set up an after action review for tomorrow. Lieutenant, get us to Starbase Eleven,” she said as she walked into her office.

Pep turned to Lt. Dolphin. “Kenny, you’re in command through the end of this shift.” Pep and Mlady left the bridge - Mlady giving Dolphin a long and rather strange look before exiting.

Dolphin remained standing next to the captain’s chair. He turned back to face the pilot’s station. “Ensign Phillips - get some sack time, you’re next in this chair.” He patted the arm of the captain’s chair. “Lieutenant Gamor,”  
Gamor had almost welded herself to the most remote corner of the bridge while Dolphin was being grilled.  
“Yes sir?”  
“You have the con, Lieutenant. Best speed to Starbase Eleven. I will be in the shuttle bay.” Dolphin heard Gamor ordering Salazaar to the pilot station. He left the bridge with Ensign Phillips.  
  
Pep and Mlady had already vanished from the hallway behind the bridge, which shared deck 8 with a large conference room, the captain’s office, captain’s stateroom and, at the back of the hall, flanked by turbo-lifts, the ground operations center. Lt. T’Lok Smith and Ensign T’Lon emerged from one of the lifts as Lt. Dolphin and Ensign Phillips neared the back of the hallway. Under their feet they could feel a familiar vibration as the Hunter jumped to warp speed.  
“Well, look at the pretty new pilot,” T’Lok said lightly. “The scenery just keeps improving on this boat.” The two young vulcans were walking with arms linked. If it weren’t for the vulcan features and the black Star Fleet JAG uniforms, they might have been teenage surf goddesses - tall, slim, athletic, both with long, straight auburn hair and skin bronzed by a lifetime in the sun. T’Lon’s expression, while composed, almost conveyed a sense of long-suffering, while T’Lok’s lighthearted smile just looked strange on a vulcan.  
“Hello Ethan, Director Dolphin,” T’Lok continued.  
“Director Smith, Ensign T’Lon” Lt. Dolphin replied, evenly.  
T’Lok smiled more broadly. “I wanted to thank you for assigning the air support operation to Tauk,”  
“It seemed the logical thing to do,” Dolphin answered.  
T’Lok rewarded the comment with a slight giggle and a dazzling smile. But it was Ensign T’Lon who responded, “Except for his lack of command experience.”  
Dolphin turned his attention toward T’Lon. “How else is he to obtain such experience?”  
Ensign T’Lon raised an eyebrow, then gave a slight nod.  
Lt. T’Lok Smith made an amused noise, then added, “Well he seems quite taken with you, but he belongs to my department. You can’t have him.”  
“I wasn’t planning to appropriate your assistant director, Lieutenant,” Dolphin responded.  
“See that you don’t,” T’Lok responded with a look of mock seriousness, then smiled again, “Good evening gentlemen.” She and T’Lon turned to enter the ground operations center.  
Ethan Phillips managed to mumble something that sounded almost like “good evening.”  
  
T’Lok released T’Lon’s arm and turned back just as T’Lon entered the ground ops center. “Oh, Mr. Dolphin, if you would like a drink after duty, I will be in the directors lounge.”  
“That would be agreeable,” Dolphin heard himself say, and vaguely wondered why he was talking like a vulcan. With a mixture of amusement, admiration and chagrin he realized T’Lok had provoked him into flirting with her - a half-vulcan less than half his age - probably not much older than his oldest daughter.  
“She must be one hell of an interrogator,” Dolphin mumbled to himself and was surprised to hear “Yes, she is,” in answer. He had completely forgotten that Ensign Phillips was still standing next to him.  
“I have to go to the shuttle bay - up?” he asked, more to cover his momentary confusion than out of need for direction.  
Ethan Phillips gestured to the nearest turbo lift. “Yes sir. I’ll take the other one - I’m going down to my quarters.”  
“Thank you. Good night Mr. Phillips.”  
“Good night, sir.”

2.12


	13. Episode 2.13 - Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Sun and Chief Guth are grounded by the new Director of Flight Operations for failure to follow recommended protocol...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a department director, I have occasionally had to reprimand good employees to keep them from straying down the wrong path. 
> 
> There is an art to discipline... You have to be able to deliver it without destroying the good relationship you need with your team or damaging their self-confidence.

2.13  
Grounded

Chief Guth was not happy. He had completed the post flight check and maintenance on the wagon and was ready to return to his quarters - this was not his regular shift. Ensign Sun Ho Hui was neither anxious nor bored. As long as he was in the shuttle bay, he might as well check out all of the consoles to ensure they were working properly. Justice Irons had told them to expect Lt. Dolphin in twenty minutes. It actually took only thirteen.  
Guth came to attention as Dolphin entered the shuttle bay. Sun was not as certain of the lieutenant’s expectations, but took his cue from the chief flight specialist - he locked the console he had been working on and came to attention. He knew how to respond to Dr. Carrera, but Dr. Dolphin was famous for not liking hybrids. Sun wasn’t really certain why.

“Ensign Sun, did you follow recommended protocol while providing air support today?”  
“Yes, sir?” Sun answered, not knowing where this was going.  
Chief Guth had a good idea where Dolphin was going and did not like it. He had done some fine flying and was not feeling apologetic about it. “Sir..” he started  
“As you were, Chief, my issue is with Ensign Sun.” Dolphin had a warm sound to his voice, but there was a steely sound underneath. Guth really didn’t want to get off to a bad start with the new director of his department.  
“Ensign, you do recall that I assigned command of the wagon to you,” Dolphin continued.  
“Yes sir,” Sun answered, still not really following.  
“As mission commander, were you responsible for all activities onboard from beginning to end of mission?”  
“Yes sir…” Sun was beginning to understand what the issue was.  
“And during the mission, was the internal inertial dampener manually adjusted?”  
“Yes sir…” Sun’s features registered a dawning understanding.  
“Please answer my first question again, Mr. Sun”  
“Sir, I believe I failed to follow protocol during this mission. I allowed the inertial dampener to be adjusted and the fly-by to be conducted manually.”  
“Thank you, Mr. Sun. Lieutenant Tauk brought your oversight to my attention from the flight telemetry. I am not entering a reprimand for you at this time. But as Director of Flight Operations, I am grounding you from flight missions on the wagon, the interceptors, the tactical unit and the main bridge until you complete the written recertification exams for all these vehicles including the Hunter itself. We’ll forgo the practical exams - I know you can fly. What I need to be certain of is your grasp of protocol. Complete them on your own time - and do so soon. I would like you to be requalified before your next shift on bridge duty, which I believe is in four days. I prefer not to enter this on your record.”  
“Understood, sir,”  
“Dismissed, Ensign.”

Dolphin turned to his pilot. “Chief.. Flight.. Specialist.. Dewayne.. Guth..” He pronounced each word slowly, with pauses for emphasis - then looked surreptitiously over his shoulder to verify that Ensign Sun had left the shuttle bay. “Give me a tour of the wagon, Chief.”  
Guth, braced for a reprimand, was taken off guard. “Sir?”  
“I haven’t actually flown one of these - except in simulation.”  
Guth walked Lt. Dolphin around the uparmored shuttle, then inside, “Two brig units port midship, three starboard, open passage between them connecting the rear operations staging area to the flight operations booth in the fore,” he said as they walked inside the craft.  
“Pop the stick for me, Guth,” said Dolphin as they reached the flight ops booth.  
Guth sat in the pilot seat, touched a control and reached under the console to pull the flight operation stick out and rotated it 90 degrees into the upright, operating position.  
“When are you to use manual flight control?” Dolphin asked.  
“During any operation in which tolerances are beyond computer control or when the computer is non-functional,” Guth responded.  
“And was the computer functional when you dropped altitude for your fly-by?”  
“Yes, sir..”  
Dolphin kept his voice quiet and friendly, “Please explain exactly how the fly-by operation was outside of computer control tolerances.”  
Guth thought for only a second. Dolphin was a test pilot as well. For Guth, honesty had always been the best policy anyway - especially when talking to a fellow pilot. “I wanted to get closer to the buildings than the computer would allow.”  
“How close?”  
“A meter. The computer would not allow less than five meters.”  
Dolphin deliberately spoke very quietly and calmly. “Eighty eight centimeters, Mr. Guth. You came within eighty-eight centimeters of a building at 412 kph with the inertial dampeners reduced. If you had hit that building you would have turned yourself and Ensign Sun into jelly. Furthermore, although you did not know this, Investigator Buttons was inside that building. You would have dropped that building on top of him before he could deactivate the jamming device - in the basement of that building - and as well as destroying the wagon, killing Buttons, Sun and yourself, you would have made it impossible to rescue the ground operations team and the command staff. You wanted to pass by 100 centimeters at 400 kph - correct?”  
Guth’s eyes had widened as he realized just how badly things could have gone. “Yes sir,” he responded.  
“So you were out of your personal tolerances by more than five percent. If you had set the computer for a fly-by at five meters, at 300 kph, what would the tolerance be?”  
“Less than one-thousandth of one percent,” Guth responded.  
“Chief, you’ve been a Star Fleet pilot for nearly fifteen years. You reached the top of the non-comm grades years ago. Have you ever considered going to OCS?”  
“Not really, sir. I never really wanted to be an officer. I just want to fly.”  
“I came in as a civilian test pilot,” Dolphin replied. “I had to go to OCS to obtain clearance to fly the most experimental birds - stuff I can’t even tell you about. But you would love them - there are some amazing new birds coming out of Utopia Planitia. Chief, you’re my top pilot. I have to rely on you to set the example for the rest of the department. I can’t let this go. I am entering a reprimand on your record and grounding you from operating the wagon until you recertify - both written and practical. I know interceptor pilots prefer to fly stick - and they have that option during combat. But this wagon is not an interceptor.”  
“Understood, sir.” Guth felt oddly relieved. He had also heard stories about Dolphin’s dislike for hybrids - Guth was evidently part trill - he shaved his head to reveal the spots - which created a subtle effect against his dark skin - an artifact of his African-American heritage. This Dolphin actually seemed to care about his people and after a lifetime of encountering prejudice from both humans and trills, Guth did not detect any hint of prejudice from Dolphin.  
“All right, Mr. Guth - get some sack time. I will leave it to you to explain your error to the other pilots - so they are never tempted to do the same.” Dolphin stood up and walked to the back of the wagon, paused and turned before walking off the rear plank, “that _was_ some pretty fancy flying, down there, Guth.”  
Guth smiled, “Thank you, sir”  
“Don’t ever do it again.”

2.13


	14. Episode 2.14 - Ivonovic Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Governor Emory Ivonovic - trapped in a brig cell with his thoughts. Not his finest moment...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivonovic has several games running and all his plans are spinning out of control. He isn't worried about the trial - simply being arrested has wrecked his plans.

2.14  
Ivonovic Trapped

Emory Ivonovic paced in his very cramped brig cell like an impatient silver fox. The cell was designed to meet the needs of a single occupant - barely. He did not know whether the transponder embedded in his hip bone could be read from the middle of this Federation brig. At least the transponder had not been removed. An occasional, mildly painful pulse let him know it was still active.   
This day had been a disaster and in no small part thanks to the failure of his legal team. He had no idea why they had allowed that little Star Fleet hellion to slip in a charge under the Federation Charter, but he was determined they would pay for that error. His plans had been set back by years, if not scuttled entirely.  
There was no way for Ivonovic to be certain of a rescue at this moment. But his captors would need to move him through a starbase or take him to Earth to face the Tribunal. There would be opportunities. Given his connections and deep knowledge of the movement, he was fairly confident his somewhat unpredictable allies would want him alive and not in the hands of the Federation justice system. At least, not yet. These black-uniformed Star Fleet freaks had no idea what they were up against.

2 - The Colony of New Hope


End file.
